The World Is Mine
by hazygutters
Summary: The next time maybe, if he ever crosses paths with her again, he'll be the one to prove something: that the world was his. Claire-centric and sort-of character study. Introspective.


**Disclaimer: I own neither Umineko No Naku Koro Ni nor Baccano! These two (literally) bloody masterpieces belong to their respective creators. **

**Summary: The next time maybe, if he ever crosses paths with her again, he'll be the one to prove something: that the world was his. Claire-centric and sort-of character study. Introspective.**

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**The World Is Mine**

So…she wants to convince him that witches were real?

He doesn't like the huge, great mansion; doesn't like how the silence in the hallways was louder than the sound of his own footsteps. As he contemplates upon what she said (_witches are real, magic is real, I am a witch, believe me and I'll show it to you_) he can't help but rely on the persistency in her words and the weight of her too-blue eyes as she stares at him fiercely and earnestly, as though she really, really, _actually _wants him to believe, and wants him to outright say the words she wants to hear (_witches are_(n't)_ real_), desires it even. He doesn't like her quiet malevolence and nearly unmasked arrogance though, as if she already knows _what's happening and what's going to happen_.

(That's his job, not hers.)

She doesn't look like the witches he'd heard from his younger brother Luck's written storybooks nor the ones told in Berga's scary horror tales to keep him long awake at night. Granted, he doesn't know how witches exactly look like since he'd never seen one, but she wasn't exactly like how he'd imagined witches would be (_old, haggard, shriveled-up_) nor like the fortune-teller he'd befriended back in the circus who claimed that she was descended from hundreds-of-old Italian witches. The woman who had suddenly-and briefly-appeared in front of him out-of-nowhere had hair the color of sunset (_rust-golden_) and blue, _blue_ eyes, and wore an expensive-looking and flowing silk dress with ruffles. She was pretty-gorgeous even.

Funnily, the one give-away that she was actually a witch was her laugh; even _he_ was a little taken aback by it. She laughed madly and cackled loudly like a witch that he actually could believe that witches were real, that they existed in t(his) world. In the very least, her laugh was interesting.

But what good was it making him believe that magic and witches were_ real _and_ they existed_-if no one existed and was real (except him)? Witches didn't exist because no one existed anyway; magic wasn't real because nothing was real_. _In the first place, he was the only real thing in t(his) world. It was useless trying to convince him that she existed because everything and every person in t(his) world were just figments of the too-real illusion he'd created in his own mind. Simply put, witches_ weren't real and _she_ wasn't real because _no one_ was real._ That was the truth.

It was as simple as that.

If he succumbed to her entrancing words and believed hard and long enough that magic and witches were indeed truly, very _real_-then fortunately, eventually what she said _would_ become real (as it always had). He may not know exactly if witchesdo_ exist_ but he confidently knows that he dictated her every word and action, and the laws and rules of t(his) world bended to him and him_ alone_ (because, after all, _the world was his_. That was the gist of it all, and that's what everything came down to in the end, and so what difference would _she_ make in t(his) world?).

He already knows the inevitable outcome (he's confident and so self-assured not because of his self-buoyancy or ego, but because it's the truth, the unsaid logic behind his actions).

It was fun though, to see her so adamant and passionate in persuading and making him believe in the truth behind her words; and he just went along it nonchalantly _because so what if you say magic and witches were real, so what if you say that they existed?_ It amuses him to see her try so hard to prove something that's not even real _because nothing is real_ _nothing is real _and so he pretends, even though he couldn't care less. Why bother? Her claims about witches and magic make his life more unexpected and interesting, like some kind of twisted fairytale (maybe she _is_ a witch after all). He knows that everything he sees is just an illusion as if he's in a dream made for him (_smoky images and hazy people it's all in his mind he's just inside a dream_), and the mad golden-haired woman was no exception to this.

If he dies-which he's certain he won't-then everything will just disappear and cease to exist _because he's the absolute center of the world and everything in it. _He's never going to die.

But if he _did_ die then he'll just wake up and everything else will completely disappear and vanish or become annihilated ands reduced into _nothingness_…nothing at all (and that includes crazy, beautiful golden-haired witches with elegantly-designed wooden pipes, of course) except for himself.

He's the _only_ real person existing in t(his) world.

The next time maybe, if he ever crosses paths with her again (_and she'll laugh that interesting laugh of hers_), he'll be the one to prove something: that the world was his.

He thinks about this, mauls it over and over in his head; and fails to see, _doesn't notice_ the trail of golden butterflies near him.

END

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**A/N: Just finished Baccano! last week. Maygad.**

**So yeah. For some reason that the author fails to elaborate, Claire Stanfield meets Beatrice from Umineko. Sparks fly…and shit hits the fan. Lol. I just watched some clips in Youtube about Umineko and read some chapters of the manga, so I apologize deeply if I didn't make Beatrice sound right. **

**And about Claire, I don't think he'll have a hard time accepting that Beatrice is a witch since his own brothers are freakin' immortals and he himself has interacted and fought (and won) against them. But for the sake of the story, let's just say that he's a bit skeptical of the supernatural and unknown. If you don't understand the logic in this story, then congratulations. You're just as confused as I am about Claire (I hope I got his voice right btw). xD**

**Also, Claire-freaking-Stanfield. 'Nuff said.**

**Lastly, review! xD**


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